halloween

Halloween

time has flown,

another year,

Halloween,

time to recall the passing year,

those who have died,

and those still here,

prayers said,

for a successful harvest,

and for souls restless,

on this autumn night,

life fleeting,

the message of Halloween,

trick or treat,

enjoy the living,

but death lurking,

in the shadows.

Douglas Polk

autumn colors

Autumn Colors

autumn colors painted on the hills,

awaiting winter,

and the coming cold,

fences fixed,

tight and strong,

until the snow drifts,

breaking strands from post to post,

autumn colors beautiful,

bottled beer raised into toast,

to the artist,

God above.

Douglas Polk

building sacred

building sacred

building vacant,

looks its age,

a cross made by the window panes,

a holy place,

in which a family raised,

haunted now by snakes and mice,

yet sacred to those beyond the grave.

Douglas Polk

old tree

old tree

an old tree,

painted both above ground,

and underneath,

the branches white with age,

the roots seem newer,

and full of rage,

isn't that always the case,

the surface so easily seen,

but the emotions underneath,

unseen and unresolved,

life takes some digging,

if you really want to see.

Douglas Polk

shattered

Shattered

a shattered windshield,

or a spider's web,

I can not decide,

the mind races,

trying to decide,

but ultimately,

what does it matter,

it only a painting,

whether a spider's web,

or a windshield shattered.

Douglas Polk

Trees

Trees 

Trees on a hill,

remind me of Calvary,

and Christ dying for my sins,

here in the land of sand and sky,

alone with thoughts of salvation.

Douglas Polk

adventures

Adventures

a ship sailing in uncharted waters,

through a passage,

to an unknown land,

the world exciting and new,

and a bit frightening,

isn't that what life should be,

days filled with new adventures.

Douglas Polk

Abstract Thoughts

Abstract Thoughts

a painting alive with movement,

as if it lives,

eyes dance upon the canvas,

wondering what the artist was attempting,

what the artist expressed,

never still,

the eyes wander across the canvas.

Douglas Polk

Wood Grove

Wood Grove

the place the dead wood found,

to be chopped,

and used for warmth in the winter months,

a place of community,

deer present almost every day,

antlers on the ground,

along with the wood,

a trophy in young hands,

excited to show his mother,

antlers found,

an outdoor boy,

believing himself an outdoor man.

Douglas Polk

River hills

River Hills

the place I would come to think my troubled thoughts of teenage years,

serene and isolated,

the climb breath taking as was the view,

life and death first pondered here,

wondering why it all meant,

until the concept realized,

sitting in this place,

I am truly blessed.

Douglas Polk

lighthouse

Lighthouse

lighthouse in the park,

a place to play,

and let the imagination soar,

maidens rescued from towering heights,

a castle defended when under siege,

through the years,

a reassuring feature,

as new generations rescue maidens from towering heights.

Douglas Polk

Flat Top

Flat Top

a mesa guarding my hometown,

on the edge of the canyons,

south of town,

past the river,

and the adventures existing there,

a rock formation,

flat on top,

a place boys would hike to through the eons,

a magnet to those wild souls,

snakes and challenges,

along the way,

the climb a must,

if manhood achieved,

among the people of my hometown.

Douglas Polk

Untitled

Untitled

iris in the park,

reminding me of my grandmother,

her love of iris,

known through my little home town,

now in the city,

reminded of her in the park,

tears form,

but never fall,

iris in the park,

a new favorite place to ponder,

and remember childhood dreams.

Douglas Polk

Paint Splatters

Paint Splatters

paint splashed upon the page,

no rhyme or reason seen,

but study the splatters a bit longer,

and different stories appear,

a canvas of snails,

inching to freedom,

leaves falling from the trees,

scoops of ice cream,

awaiting a cone,

or maybe,

just paint splatters,

without rhyme or reason.

Douglas Polk

Home

Home

hills of sand,

an ocean of grain,

waves captured and frozen,

a monument,

 as permanent as anything in a life,

tiny changes,

day after day,

until the hills no more,

and the land,

unfamiliar.

Douglas Polk

Colorful

Colorful

colors seen,

but not understood,

reds reign on the page,

putting blues and greens to flight,

while the yellows remain,

hoping to be friends,

or allies,

if the blues and greens should ever return.

Douglas Polk

Sinner

Sinner

this is a painting I recently did. Sometimes as a sinner, if helps me if I think about approaching the cross and salvation from the back instead of approaching the cross from the front,  because I am not or do I feel worthy enough to approach from the front.

Douglas Polk

Connections

Connections

I entitled this painting Connections, because when I was painting it, I got a call from an old friend, I hadn't talked to forever. I didn't want to stop painting, so I painted while we talked. Probably an hour and half later, when I hung up the phone, I was amazed, because the painting seem to capture some of the warmth I felt for my friend. Maybe I like this because I like my friend, but I feel good when I look at this painting.

Douglas Polk

High Hills

High Hills

This painting is one of my favorites, I have done of the Sandhills. It is an actual view on my parents former ranch. I love this painting because if you study it abit, you can really sense the topography of the sandhills. There are few level valleys in the high hills, and the valley floors usually rise or descend, but rarely still level. 

Douglas Polk

Dante's Descent

Dante's Descent

This painting for whatever reason in my tortured mind, at one time reminded me of Dante's Inferno. I am not sure why, looking at the painting now. But I do remember thinking the gray path was the pathway descending into hell, and somehow they represented the different levels of hell. Not sure about all that now, but I still do like this painting.

Douglas Polk

The Stampede

The Stampede

This painting has also been featured in a magazine. The painting is entitled 'Stampede' because I had earlier in the week painted a painting of a buffalo, and I wondered how I would paint an abstract of a  buffalo. This is what my abstract painting evolved into . . .I thought it looked like lots of motion and dust, so decided to entitle it the stampede.

Douglas Polk

Autumn Trees

Autumn Trees

This painting is one of mine that has been featured in magazines. (I have had 33 paintings featured in different magazines,) This painting was inspired by a trip out to a little lake we have here by Kearney.  It is a park, called Cottonwood Park. I was fortunate enough to get away one day and get out there when the leaves and grass were turning colors. The blue is Cottonwood Lake.

Douglas Polk

Circus Patches

Circus Patches

This painting is one of my favorites also. I don't know why it reminds me of the circus, but it does. I was really pleased with the colors, and lines of the painting. It is one of my go-to paintings to view during the hard days, the depressed days. I am not sure why it works for me, but it does, and I guess that is the most important thing.

Douglas Polk

Opening Day and Sneak Attack

Opening Day

This is a painting of my son Ben, (done from a photo) . It was the opening day of the major league baseball season. Ben didn't like having his picture taken, and so I think I told him, our baseball season, we played in our front yard, couldn't officially open until Ben had his picture taken. So this is  Ben ready for the first pitch of baseball season.

Sneak Attack

This is a painting of my oldest son Ethan, (done from a photo). This photo was the day after opening day. We had a big snow storm, so this was Ethan trying to sneak up and get me with a snowball. He saw the painting I had done of Ben, and wondered why I hadn't done one of him. So I painted this painting to maintain the peace in the household. We had some special special times in that old house, and I have some wonderful memories of my boys when I view these paintings,

Douglas Polk

White Water

White Water

This is one of my few attempts of painting with oils. It has a totally different feel to painting with watercolors. Watercolors were what I had as a child, and I just love painting with watercolors. Though at my last exhibit in Lincoln, one of the people viewing the exhibit wanted  to argue with me whether my paintings were watercolor or oil. After the first time I ever exhibited, some of the other artists told me they thought I had some talent, but I needed to study with someone, and one of them, it seems to me,  even offered to teach me (at a retreat) to paint. But I was afraid I would lose what painting gives me, if I began thinking of it in a different way. I mainly paint to cope, otherwise I feel like I could lose my sanity. Painting is praying, and it is like being in a different state of awareness. It always amazes me, I start a painting, and think minutes have passed, and it is four hours later. 

Douglas Polk

Mind Blown

Mind  Blown

This is probably my favorite painting I have painted. I named it after painting it because I had no idea of what I had painted. But if you look in the middle and bottom left of the painting, (in the green) you will be able to see, eyes, a nose, and a lip and chin. Blows my mind to this day. Mind Blown.

Douglas Polk

The Prince

The Prince

This painting was one of those happy accidents. I was just painting patches of colors, and it wasn't until the painting was almost over when I noticed that with a little imagination, a  Prince could be seen in this painting. You found him yet?

Douglas Polk

Fountain

Fountain

In my town, there is a park, (Harmon Park in Kearney, Nebraska) which is so beautiful. During my cancer treatments I spent quite a bit of time in the park, just to soak in the beauty. There is a rock garden, and through the rock garden is a man-made waterway. This is a painting of the fountain at the top of the garden, where the waterway starts. There is park bench near, and it is a wonderful place to enjoy a day.

Douglas Polk

Painting for a Friend

Painting for a Friend

Back in younger days I brought a city girl to the Sand hills. She had never been much in the country. When she got back to the city she shared  a picture she had taken while in the sand hills, she entitled the photo, "My Favorite Country View". It was a photo of my derriere. So I painted this for her, but I quit college before I had a chance to give it to her. Maybe someday she will stumble on to it here.

Douglas Polk

Canyon Roads

Canyon Roads

canyon road south of the river,

leads to a wonder land of adventure,

hills to sled,

and rock formations to walk,

a place seemingly with a soul,

full of memories of people gone by,

walking the pathways of the canyons,

south of the river.

Elephant Eyes

Elephant Eyes

Sometimes when I paint, I later find images in the painting I did not realize I painted. I think the subconscious is an amazing thing. In this painting it was elephants. After the painting had dried I kept seeing elephants in the painting. It was baffling to me that I could not see them. Another painting where is happened is a painting I call "The Spirit Descending". My son, Ethan on viewing the painting, asked, "Dad, why did you make Jesus a girl?"  I replied, "I didn't He isn't in the painting." Ethan respond

ed, "Yes HE IS BUT HE IS A GIRL."  I guess you all can decide for yourselves.

The Spirit Descending

Winter Bridge

Winter Bridge

This painting is one of the first I ever attempted. It is a painting of the bridge near into our ranch on the Dismal River. This year it was so cold some ice was forming near the bridge which hardly ever happened with the fast moving river. This view is from the gate leading into our ranch. We no longer own the ranch, and I have been told the bridge no longer exists . . .